


Not Part of the Routine

by WritingsOfAHobbit



Series: Thranduil/Reader Stories [14]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 08:23:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3603135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingsOfAHobbit/pseuds/WritingsOfAHobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the tumblr prompt: Imagine Thranduil interrogating you yet again just to secretly enjoy how you try to cover your fear by defiant behavior like asking him if repeated interrogation belonged to his courting habits</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Part of the Routine

There are a great many things that are in your agenda, and within that agenda there is a great many things that you plan for. Capture and interrogation at the hands of the King of Mirkwood was not one of those things. Yet here you were, once again being dragged up the steps towards the throne platform. It's was the fifth time this week.  

The guards release you suddenly, but you're prepared and catch yourself before you fall to the floor. Those which escorted you hurry back the way you came. When you first arrived here they stayed to keep you in check, but it quickly became clear that you don't take nonsense from anybody, regardless of their rank or social status.

You arrange your facial features into a stoney mask of indifference, fold your arms as best you can with bound wrists, and look up at the King.

King Thranduil has his legs lounged over one arm of his chair, his heavy coat draped around him. His head is tilted in amusement and a smirk plays on his lips. He is incredibly attractive, for as long as his mouth stays shut. Unfortunately, it never stays shut for long.

“How are you enjoying your stay?” He drawls, one finger absent-mindedly twisting hair around his finger.

You shrug one shoulder, dragging your eyes around the room. As long as he stays in that chair, looking as though he’s bored, you’re safe. “I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone.”

“I’m afraid that you might be here for some time, unless you start cooperating.” Thranduil swings his legs off the arm of his chair and your heart skips a beat.

Stay. You beg internally. He doesn’t.

The King pushes himself to his feet and slowly makes his way down the stairs to his throne, until he is stood right infront of you.

The fear suddenly spikes and you want nothing more than to take a few steps back.

For some unfathomable reason, King Thranduil scares the living daylights out of you. It might be because he’s so thin yet so strong, which caught you by surprise when you tried to evade capture. It might also be that he towers over you. You can’t remember coming across an elf this tall before.

“Do you want to stay here forever?”

“Are you asking?” You quirk an eyebrow, hoping that it covers the fear you’re feeling. “You have a funny way of showing affection. It’s no wonder you’ve never married if this is part of your courting routine.”

The King smirks, tilting your head up with a delicate finger under your chin. “You’re very good at cloaking your fear.”

“I seem to remember this happening every time I’ve been here. Is repeated interrogation also a part of your routine?”

Thranduil smirks again, slowly walking around you. “It can be, if that’s what you would like.”

You force a smirk of your own, though it’s almost painful. Can you be sick through a smirk? You might be about to find out.

“Or perhaps you would prefer dinner and wine?”

“Perhaps I would prefer to be released.” you suggest dryly.

“Start cooperating and I’ll see what I can do.” you might be imagining it, but you swear that you can feel Thranduil’s hand trace across your waist.

“‘See what you can do’?” you laugh. “You’re the king. You can do as you please.”

“And it would please me to enjoy your company a little longer.” 


End file.
